Kickstart
by Hawki
Summary: Eternity Oneshot: Circumstance of birth can dictate the direction one's life takes. Yet every so often, chance provides the opportunity to change one's fate. To give a new path in life a little kickstart.


_A/N_

_Believe it or not, this is based on Obsidian Entertainment's _Project Eternity_, the game being funded by fans through a kickstarter campaign. In all honesty, I'm a bit uneasy about it. On one hand, I like the idea of them doing an old school RPG, introducing variety back into the genre. On the other, does a non-indie studio really need this kind of monetary investment? Not only does this potentially take away funds from game studios who need it, but I feel it could set an iffy precedent of fans paying for content before a game's development._

_Oh well. Hope the game turns out well at the end of the day._

* * *

**Kickstart**

She'd imagined this moment so many times, but she never expected it to be like this.

Looking out into the Pearlwood Gulf, Ruano opened the urn containing her father's ashes, letting the wind take them out to sea. Such was his last wish, to become one with infinity as he had put it. It sounded ridiculous to Ruano, especially since her father wasn't even a user of magic, but all children honoured their parents. All good children at least.

"Goodbye pa," Ruano said softly, watching the ashes head west, to the sun's dying light. "You may be set to become one of the sea. But you kept me on the earth."

It wasn't that elegant a eulogy, but she'd said most of what she'd wanted to say at the village chapel. Turning around, Ruano headed for her horse. It was time to head home.

"You alright then?" asked Gerakan.

"Fine," the young woman answered. "Fine…"

It wasn't fine. None of it was. Gerakan was some wandering adventurer/hero, the type of person who could afford to explore the world. What he exactly did, Ruano didn't know. One moment he'd tell of coming across an aggravated dwarf with an axe to grind, the next he was trading treasure with elves. One way or another, he'd become quite well off. Enough to spend time with some poor peasant as she made preparations for her father's death. Some extra stanza to add to the story of his life, she suspected.

_He'll get to live on in song, _Ruano thought bitterly. _Meanwhile, I'm fated to join my father…and that's if I'm lucky._

Slowly, she walked over to her horse. Slowly, she looked at the urn. Its polished wood, its gold rim. It was worth quite a lot apparently. Not enough to change her fate but-

"I'll be taking that."

Ruano looked up. That was when Gerakan hit her. She fell to the rocky ground of the cliff.

"What the-?"

Gerakan kicked her then. His boot hit her stomach, winding her. She barely noticed him take the urn out of her hands.

"Don't worry about the pain," said Gerakan. "You'll be dead soon anyway."

It was astonishing how much force that single kick had featured. Yet Ruano looked upwards. Her stomach was heaving, but her ears were burning.

"It takes an awful lot of gold, to live like this," Gerakan continued, heading over to his horse and placing the urn in a small pouch attached to the saddle (probably filled with gold, given the sound the urn made when it entered). "This urn is worth more than I think your father knew." He turned around and began walking to the cliff, to the woman still on her knees. "Or what you knew either I think."

Her stomach was heaving, her ears were burning, but now, Ruano barely noticed. It was her heart that was giving her the most problems. Pounding away in her chest, with the swiftness of an elven arrow, with the force of a dwarven hammer.

"Please…" she whispered, realizing why Gerakan hadn't just mounted his horse and rode off. "You have what you want…just-"

"Just leave? And let you open those pretty lips to spew ugly words?' Gerakan smiled faintly. "No. You're joining your father. You'll disappear, and if anyone finds your body, they'll assume you couldn't bear to be in this world without him. No sword marks, no suspicions of foul play."

"You'll still be the last one who saw me…" Ruano said, crawling back to the edge of the cliff as Gerakan approached her. "They'll know."

"Know what? That I left you to be on your own as you let your grief out? Hardly damning."

He was right, Ruano reflected. There'd be nothing to tie him to her death. Nothing set in stone anyway. And…and right now, as he hand slipped out over the edge of the cliff, she couldn't retreat any further.

"End of the line," Gerakan said, squatting down to face her. "Time to die."

Ruano closed her eyes. She didn't want to see what was coming. Didn't want to-

"Gah!"

…see Gerakan as he fell on top of her.

Ruano felt her hair fly in the wind in the void above the rocks. It was the least of her concerns though. Gerakan had fallen on top of her. Shoving him off her, she saw why – an arrow sticking out of his back. A white fletched, finely crafted arrow. An arrow that seemed to have been fired by the figure walking over to her.

"I…I…"

The figure ignored her. He was clad in a black traveling cloak, hiding all aspects of his visage bar the pointed ears that stuck out. An elf. One that approached Gerakan's body and rummaged through his right pocket. Finding nothing.

"He…has a left pocket too…" Ruano murmured.

The figure looked up at her, as if noticing the girl for the first time. Either way, he took her advice. A hand entered Gerakan's left pocket. Before long, it came out, a small golden broach with a carved rune coming out.

"An unfair trade," the elf said, looking down at the human before him, his voice having some kind of accent Ruano couldn't identify. "He's paid for it in full now."

And with that he walked off.

Ruano just stared. Elves, dwarves…the bastard before her had mentioned his trade with them. Trade that, if his attempt on her life and this little incident was any indication, probably hadn't been conducted fairly. At least she'd actually survived. She glanced out to sea, wondering what it would have been like to land on the rocks. To join her father.

The elf was gone by the time she looked back.

_Well…thank you then… _the peasant thought to herself, bereft of her saviour. _I guess._

Apparently elves weren't big on manners. Though he'd at least left the two horses the human pair had rode in on. Horses that Ruano approached, namely Gerakan's. It just stood there, as if waiting for a rider. So unlike her own, which had been bought cheaply and was on its last legs.

Sooner or later, she'd lose Jerome as well, the poor thing. But for now, her eyes and thoughts were where her hands were – Gerakan's pouch. A pouch that contained her father's urn, and judging by the weight of said pouch, more gold then she'd ever spent her entire life.

_All mine for the taking._

Was it wrong, stealing from the dead? Looking at Gerakan's corpse, Ruano supposed not. She hadn't killed him. And she was beginning to suspect he'd stolen quite a bit while he was alive. And yet his death had provided her with opportunities…

Silently, Ruano mounted Jerome. Silently, she grasped the reins of Gerakan's mount and let it follow her back to her village.

She had much to consider.


End file.
